Job 2:10

Last night as I was lying in my best friend's bed praying my first decade of my rosary I just began crying uncontrollably. I couldn't stop. With each Hail Mary my tears came faster and the sobs racked my body harder. I felt tormented. My heart ached, my soul longed to be comforted and my headache pounded into my ears. I was filled with a rage. That rage that keeps filling me and I don't know what to do with. But I just kept praying. I had nothing left so I just kept praying.

The nights sleeping in Erin's bed without her fill me with these awful thoughts. I've been having nightmares. My mind is playing tricks on me. Mocking me and my sentiments. Exploiting my fears. Feeding on my pain. I don't appreciate it.

I'm pushing my boyfriend away and he doesn't understand. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't know what he's done. Has he hurt me? Yes, he has. But my rational is not rational. I'm simply retreating. Protecting myself. Getting overly defensive. I can't explain it.

I'm changing every second. It's taking over. It. Perhaps we should name them. How much time do I have until I'm not even the tiniest bit me. I feel it. I feel...

I'm so alone. I don't know who to turn to. It isn't fair. I feel blocked. Can't say this, can't say that.

Marisa I'm sorry. I've failed in so many ways and I have no control over anything. I'm so sorry.

I'm nothing but this cancer. I'm more than my cancer. I'm nothing but this cancer. I'm more. So much more. I'm nothing. I'm more. I'm nothing. I'm more. I'm...

...so unbelievably lost.

Split.

I ended my chemo today. It was an extremely difficult two weeks. Harder than anyone knows. Harder than I thought it would be even in some respects. I thought I would have more support in certain ways. I thought I would be less...whatever. It doesn't matter. I want to talk about it but I don't want to talk about it. This isn't the intention of the blog anyway. I'm just a...mess.

Tomorrow is sort of a big day. Tomorrow our Life Night is in part, dedicated to me. I'm going to receive the Anointing of the Sick in front of my teens and be prayed over by them. Then we're going to have Adoration. I'm a little overwhelmed at the fact that they're doing this for me in the first place let alone to receive this Sacrament publicly like this is slightly unorthodox. Not that it bothers me. It allows my suffering and illness to be turned into a teaching moment. Not to mention I believe in the power of prayer. I believe in miracles and I need a miracle. I need my teens to pray for me. I need everyone to pray for me.

The difficult thing for me about tomorrow is who won't be there. On every given Sunday I'm okay being at Holy Cross. I'm great actually. It's my parish now and I belong there. I love my teens and I love what I do. I don't miss St. Anne Youth Ministry one bit. Or even St. Anne. I miss the teens very much. An unbearable amount. But besides them what I'm missing is my core team. To not have April there to pray over me... and Katrina to get mad at me for making her cry. I need my best friend to hold one hand and my boyfriend to hold my other. Yet I can't have that. There was this split and I'm the only one at Holy Cross. Just me.

I'm scared.

Last night I was with Michael and I was getting a little lost in my thoughts. My mind drifted to my best friend and how I missed her and I couldn't help but be a little bothered at her current travel adventure. I was glad she was going to visit her brother but the fact that she was going to my hometown without me made me kinda uncomfortable. Not that she was going to go explore El Paso, or even that there is much to explore. If I had even gone with it's not like I would have been able to show her anything. In reality she's at Ft. Bliss anyway. Where my grandfather is buried. But it's almost like that's where I grew up-that city is more than some place on a map. The far left corner of Texas. It's home. It's weird her being there and not knowing anything about it. Regardless, as I was talking to Michael and just thinking I thought about how there are a lot of things him and I have to do. He has to take me to Sierra Vista. I have to go to Benson and meet his father. He needs to go to El Paso and walk down Killarney with me. I've driven down that street with all my ex boyfriends. I want to walk down that street with him. I want to show him Edgemere. I want to show him the fields I played baseball at. He needs to meet all my family and sit in my Grandma's house. I'd make him eat Chico's Tacos but I know he'd get sick so I'll pass on that one. :)

Michael has wishes of his own of course. One is for me to meet his friend Richard who is a youth minister in Sierra Vista. I asked Michael last night as we were talking if Richard had a Masters. He told me no and so I asked him how he got hired. After Michael told me I just started crying. Just thinking about it now I'm holding back tears. My heart aches with this deepest desire that I've never known before. I want to be a youth minister more than I want to breathe. More than I want to love. Because for me it's almost the same thing. I want an opportunity. I need a chance. Just one chance.

I'm so scared of never getting that chance.

Beautiful Insanity

Stay Beautiful. That's currently what's playing on my ipod right now. Brought to you by the lovely Taylor Swift. Ha. I can't write and listen to music at the same time so I should silence my music. Tim McGraw just came on. Maybe after this song...

My life is extremely complicated. Extremely hard. It doesn't make any sense whatsoever. I'm on some roller coaster ride and hey all, I hate roller coasters! But someone, without my permission, strapped me on and even though like always I don't quite fit in my seat and I'm being tossed around freaking out that I'm going to fall off and plunge to my death and every drop makes me sick, I'm still hanging on. I don't scream on roller coasters. I just close my eyes, yell in my head, grip whatever I can really tight and ball myself in however form I can. I wonder if any way that's what I'm doing now. Some version of that. Or perhaps I'm reaching.

I can't explain to you how perfect my Valentine's Day was. Or even last night going to see Wicked. I can't explain to you how much that boy loves me. Even though he's dumb sometimes. Even though he drives me absolutely insane. Even though there are moments when I lose it and I question everything out of fear, out of stupidity, out of being completely irrational. But if there is one thing I know is that Michael has always known, Michael has always been sure about us. Michael has always loved me. And he loves me through everything. Through my craziness and worst moments. When I'm not fair to him at all and push him away. He loves me through my sickness. Not any man could be here through this. But Michael is always here. I can depend on him. He's the man I'm going to marry. All I have to do is keep living and one day he will ask me, and I won't have any other answer for him but yes.

Things I Shouldn't Say.

Everything tells me I shouldn't publicize this. This should go into my journal. But no one but me reads that. Maybe I need someone to read this. Maybe this is my way of asking for help.

The past three nights I haven't even changed my clothes to go to sleep. I've told myself I need to shower but I didn't. I just crawled into bed and cried until sleep overcame me. I want to stop all my medication. Not in a "I want to die" way. Though I guess, maybe there is no other way of looking at it. I wake up in the middle of the night to take Desmond out and I can't ever go back to sleep because I'm consumed with how much I want to hurt myself. Wondering if the Chemo would make me bleed out.

I've been turned into some sort of hero. I've been glorified in so many people's eyes. I am so loved. Why.

I had a dream last night. I was sitting at a window. On Killarney St. Waiting for her to come home. Do you know what I just realized? She never did come home. My dad took me to her.

I don't ever think about you. No, never.

"I'm sorry"

Then in unison! Ha. I make decisions for everyone else. When in reality I was just making a decision for myself.

Perception.

No one asks me what I'm doing. How it makes me feel. Everyone assumes.

Promises. Giving me your word. Meaningless.

You know, I stopped expecting you to be there for me a long time ago. I stopped expecting you to drop things for me. But it still hurts. I wonder if it will always hurt.

No more motivation. To do anything. I don't want to work on that for you. Not because I don't love you but because my heart is dead. I don't want to work on that because I'll just fail and there is no future. I don't want to pay my bills because it doesn't matter.

Stumbling Into Nowhere.

Last Sunday I received a gift from my dearest friend Jamie. It consisted of two things but ultimately, the biggest gift was the words she wrote me. They were honest, which from Jamie, I expect nothing less. Some were harsh. When you boil it down, the letter was a form of Jamie kicking my butt. Though it was more than that. It was Jamie telling me, reminding me, that she believed in me. Yelling at me, almost, in that perfect black handwriting that I love to see that she has faith in everything I am. "I have faith in your willpower. I have faith that your determination will carry you through". I walked away reading that letter determined I wasn't going to die. Or even if I was, I was going to stop acting like my life was over. I have to much to do. Six months is ridiculous. Any amount of time is ridiculous. I am 22 years old. I have too much life ahead of me.

Monday came storming in and I took my lovely pills and everything hit me. I can't explain the sickness. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. I've managed actually really well. Better than I should. Why? Because I had something to keep me going. I didn't allow myself to feed my negativity and get into my head. I didn't let every aching muscle consume me. I didn't allow the nausea to take over my entire being or the spinning of my head to keep my eyes shut from the world. Survey please. For the past weeks, and maybe months I've drowned myself in tears. I wish that was an exaggeration.Depression couldn't even describe it. But this week I didn't. Until yesterday. I turn the corner and I'm back to where I started, though maybe worse. Double the chemo and more unstable than ever. I want to throw a temper tantrum. I want to kick and scream at how unfair everything is and this doesn't even all have to do with my freaking cancer. It's almost 9 and I should be at a park right now all ready to go to to clean it up, but I'm not. I'm at my computer on here complaining. I feel like I'm letting everyone down.

I want my best friend to hold me and sometimes I'm so overwhelmed with how guilty and pathetic that makes me feel.

I hate being at my parent's house.

I want to runaway. I always want to runaway.

Jamie... I'm sorry.

Mini Rant

My heart feels tight in my chest. I'm listening to music because really, it's all I know how to do. I'm angry about Susan G. Komen. Perhaps furious. I just want someone to stand up for the life. Really stand up. Take all the backlash and know they're doing the right thing. Plant their feet and stay there. I want to go on a rant about how I hate birth control. I hate contraception. I hate Planned Parenthood. But mostly I hate abortion. I hate this holocaust we're living in and how so many people don't care. I hate what our President is doing. I hate this mandate. I hate what they're doing to my Church. Hah. You want to talk about me hating Michael? This is what I hate.

I think my blood is boiling.

I could write a somewhat intelligent blog right now. I say somewhat because one, my brain doesn't function properly anymore. Two, I'm really pissed. However I just rather not. Give me a few minutes and I'll reign it in and I'll grab a rosary and I'll pray. I'll fast today like I was planning. Hate doesn't suit me. Even if some disagree. Anger isn't my thing. Not that I'm the most patient person in the world but even if I can't get it stamped on my body doesn't mean I don't want to live it out. I just want to love until I die of Love.

Unfortunately at the moment I'm a little ticked about a few more things. Though maybe hurt would be a better description. I'm afraid to voice my thoughts though. I just have a lot of questions and I feel so very alone.

Don't Cry For Me Down Here.

I've heard it before. That tone of voice when they become almost dehumanized. You almost have to be. Even with the knowledge of how much he likes me. I think he was thankful how short I was over the phone. Thankful that I was being so...childish. Thankful I refused to come into the office. Thankful I demanded an answer right then.

I'm not really sure what to say. I feel like a criminal about to be hung. Except I'm not. I'm a cancer patient with just precious time ticking by.

Everything hurts.

Erin doesn't know where her best friend is. Michael doesn't know where his girlfriend is. The cancer already took me.

I'm not here.

In a weekend Chase saw me. But if he stayed longer would he not see me either? Not that it matters. Nothing should matter with him.

Just watch the video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYHT-TF4KO4&feature=related